


When I Was a Child...

by theprydonian_archivist



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Dark, Episode: s03e13 Last of the Time Lords, Kinks, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-03-01
Updated: 2008-03-01
Packaged: 2018-07-15 00:36:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7198175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theprydonian_archivist/pseuds/theprydonian_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Master plays games with The Doctor on board The Valiant.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When I Was a Child...

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Porn Battle V, hosted by Signe
> 
> Note from Versaphile, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Prydonian](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Prydonian). Deciding that it needed to have a more long-term home, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact the e-mail address on [The Prydonian collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/theprydonian/profile).

“You see, it’s so very lucky that I can do this,” the Master said. “You’re hideously old and ugly and you keep on pissing yourself.” He pointed his screwdriver at the Doctor’s wrinkled forehead.

The pain was intense, but as he writhed, he felt it somehow making him stronger. Strange. His limbs stretched out, his arms lengthened, he was able to sit up, he could breathe freely again. He looked down, and saw with shock that he was young.

“There we go now,” the Master said. “Don’t want to be a paedophile, but I think my conscience will allow me this. You’re looking about – what? Sixteen, seventeen?”

The Doctor nodded, swallowed, and hardly dared to speak. He knew who he was but he felt so confused. He felt awkward in the Master’s presence. His brain was sending him the mixed signals of a teenager and he didn’t know what to do with his hands.

“There now, it’s all fine,” the Master soothed. He placed a gentle hand on the Doctor’s skinny bicep and hauled him to his feet. “You can’t wear those stinky old man’s clothes. Take them off and I’ll bring you some fresh ones. Something denim and a hoodie, I think, like a proper youth.

The Doctor stripped down and stood there, shaking and looking out the porthole over the burned, decimated earth. When the Master returned, he had lost his tie and wasn’t carrying any clothing. He sat in a large leather chair and spun it around, singing to himself.

“Um, you said there would be clothes?” The Doctor ventured.

“Come here and sit on my lap,” the Master said. When the Doctor hesitated, he snapped his fingers. “Now. You don’t want to know the ways I’ll ruin that perfect young flesh if you don’t do exactly as I say.”

The Doctor perched precariously on the Master’s knees and the Master grabbed him around the waist and pulled him in, until he was fully in his lap. The Doctor could feel the hard intrusion of the Master’s cock press against his arse. He let his legs fall open over the Master’s trouser-clad legs and his head fell back against the Master’s shoulder -- against all better judgment -- but this felt good, and he hadn’t felt good or strong in months.

He hadn’t been touched in months.

The Master unzipped his trousers. He pulled the Doctor’s hand around behind him and made him stroke. It was awkward at that angle. The Master added saliva to his cock when the Doctor’s hand met with friction.

“That’s it, keep going,” the Master ordered.

“Please,” the Doctor said, and the Master reached around and pressed the heel of his hand against the Doctor’s erection. The Doctor flushed with shame. He knew he shouldn’t be aroused, somehow, and yet, he was. The Master shifted the Doctor in his lap, and then settled him back down on the head of his cock and pushed in, gravity bringing the Doctor down around him despite the resistance.

“Please,” the Doctor said again, gasping, his voice anguished, mind racing and this was wrong but he didn’t know how to stop it, didn’t know if he wanted it to stop. The Master had meant something to him, at some time, but what? Fingers wound in his hair and the Master pulled his head back, at the same time flexing himself up and into the Doctor, making space for himself inside.

“You’re so beautiful,” the Master said. “Young and untouched, just like you were when I first did this, back on Gallifrey, do you remember? Your white skin, the whole length of you, and it was all mine.” The Master wrapped his hand around the Doctor’s cock. “Come for me, Doctor,” he said, and the Doctor immediately did, clenching around the Master’s cock, legs jerking and hands grasping for purchase on the arms of the chair.

The Master took his time then, holding the Doctor steady as he fucked up into him, making it last longer than the Doctor would have thought possible, as the Doctor begged and whimpered.

Much later, exhausted on the floor, the Doctor was relieved to see the Master pull out his screwdriver again. The wisdom of age was what he needed now, more than ever, because his youthful hearts were feeling the strangest emotions. Emotions that would not help him defeat the Master and save Martha and the human race.

Emotions he’d long ago given up as childish.


End file.
